Montana Actually Read Online Free PDF Page A

we’re on the same page.”
    His arctic tone cooled the hot and steamy room, for which she was thankful. This version of the man she could resist. This version trampled over the unwanted heat her body had so quickly and familiarly given in to. She wrenched the conversation back to where they’d started. “I’m still not clear how you being Bear Paw’s new physician is connected to you coming into my house.”
    He sighed as if she were clearly less intelligent than him. “I get a house as part of the job, and the hospital gave me this address. Obviously there’s been some sort of major screwup on their part.”
    “You get a house . . .” Her voice trailed off as a slow slither of dread crawled across her skin. There was a severe shortage of rental properties in Bear Paw. Surely Walt hadn’t rented out the house again without telling her? She tried to recall their last conversation. She was positive she’d told him she was moving in.
    She pulled her phone out of her pocket. It had been switched off since she’d cut Brent’s call, and she held down the on button. It beeped and vibrated wildly and she stared at the screen. There were six missed calls including two from Walt and a text.
Nooooo.
With a sense of foreboding, she opened it.
    Good news, Katrina. Call me. Walt.
    A strangled sound came from her throat.
    Josh leaned forward. “Everything okay?”
    God, I hope so.
“I . . . um . . . I . . . I need to make a call.”
    —
    JOSH watched Katrina rush distractedly from the bathroom, pause and then return.
    “Feel free to make yourself some coffee. There’s a jar of instant on the bench.” She spun on her heel and disappeared from view, her jet-black hair swinging wildly.
    Josh shuddered at the thought of instant coffee. He had yet to taste any that didn’t make gasoline seem palatable. A coffee connoisseur, he had an Italian coffeemaker sitting in his car waiting to be unpacked in his new house. His colleagues at Mercy Hospital had given it to him as a going-away present, saying he might be going west to the middle of nowhere but at least he’d have decent coffee. The state-of-the-art machine would look ludicrous here. He was sure the kitchen hadn’t seen a new device since the invention of the microwave forty years ago.
    He heard the echo of footsteps beating a tattoo against the old linoleum floor and the murmur of Katrina’s voice. The woman could go from conciliatory to abrasive in a heartbeat, and she definitely lacked the sympathy gene. Still, no matter how much she annoyed the hell out of him, he hoped she hadn’t just received bad news. No one deserved that.
    He’d been the bearer of bad news too many times, watching people slump as his unwelcome words struck them. Seeing their heads rise and their eyes fill before they pleaded with him that surely there had to be another outcome. It was the one part of his job that he found the toughest, because he’d gone into medicine to help, not to cause pain. He preferred to deliver good news and have his hand pumped furiously, which he enjoyed more than being enveloped in a bear hug by the emotionally demonstrative patients.
    And he’d just received good news. He wasn’t going to be living in this half-built, half-tumbling-down house. The blanket around his shoulders rubbed against his skin, and a subtle scent of vanilla, freshly cut grass and sunshine tickled his nostrils. It was unfamiliar but he liked it. Ashley had always worn a bold perfume that frequently scented his clothes. More than one patient had given him an odd look from time to time when they’d caught the heady mix of jasmine and lily of the valley.
    He breathed in again and realized he’d smelled the scent once before—when Katrina had taken him by the hand and led him down the stairs. It was
her
perfume. The fact that it was redolent of warm, lazy summer afternoons was an oxymoron.
    Nothing about Katrina was warm. The physical package of tight, toned and curvy that was